Bad Men

He reached out to Maria

“I’ve been waiting a long time to see you again,” he whispered. He grabbed her left breast and squeezed it painfully. “Look upon this as a conjugal visit.”

Maria

“There was a time,” said Moloch, “when you used to beg me for what I’m about to give you.” He pushed her against the wall, the length of his body pressed hard against her, and clasped her cheeks in his hands, forcing her mouth into the shape of a kiss. He composed his own features into an expression of sadness.

“Maybe you’ve just forgotten the good times,” he said. “You know, I can promise you that in all the years we’ve spent apart, I’ve never been with another woman.”

He forced his mouth over hers. She struggled, making small moans of disgust against his lips. Then her body began to relax, her mouth now working along with his. His hand relaxed its grip upon her cheeks.

Maria

Da

Moloch held his hand to his wounded mouth, cupping the blood that was pouring from the cut. He stared at himself in the hall mirror, then looked down at Maria

“I’m going to cut you for that,” he said. “After I’ve fucked you, I’m going to cut you to pieces. And then I’m going to start on the boy.”

He took his knife from his belt, flicked the blade open, then advanced on her. He caught her by the hair and began to drag her down the hallway, Da

Then the sliding doors exploded and blood shot from Dexter’s chest. He tried to turn, and a second shot sent him sprawling into the fireplace. He rolled away from the red glow of the ashes. A third shot hit him in the small of the back, and he finally lay still.

Willard entered through the ruined glass, shards crunching beneath his feet.

“Y’all look surprised to see me,” he said.

Joe Dupree was almost within sight of Jack’s house when he heard the shots and the shattering of glass. Maria

He tightened his grip on the shotgun and began to circle the house.

Moloch smiled at Willard.

“I knew you’d make it,” he said.

Willard looked confused.

“You told them to kill me.”

Moloch shook his head. “No, that was Dexter’s decision, and he didn’t tell me about it until we were in trouble. I wanted to kill him for it, but by then I needed all the help I could get. There’s something on this damn island, something that wants us all dead, and we need to stick together if we’re going to get off it alive.”

Willard looked at the older man, and Moloch could see that he wanted to believe him. Whatever love Willard had for anything in this world, he had for Moloch.

“You hadn’t killed Dexter, I’d have killed him myself once we got to land. I won’t shed tears for him.”

Despite the agony of his lip, Moloch tried to seem compassionate and concerned about Willard’s own pain. It appeared to work. The gun, trained on Moloch, wavered, then fell.

“Thank you, Willard,” said Moloch.

Willard nodded.

“Where we at?” he asked.

Moloch shook Maria

“What happened to your mouth?”

Moloch smiled, his teeth red. “Love bite,” he said, then looked to Jack. “You got a first-aid kit?”

“In the kitchen, under the sink.”

Moloch inclined his head toward the kitchen. “Go in, see what you can find for my mouth,” he told Willard.

Willard took one last look at Dexter, lying unmoving on the floor, then headed for the kitchen, tucking his gun into his belt. The only sign of doubt he exhibited was his reluctance to turn away from Moloch. He was still looking back at him as the kitchen door swung closed on its hinges, hiding him from the view of those in the living room, and Joe Dupree’s great hand closed around his throat. Willard tried to reach for his gun, but the giant’s left hand plucked it from its belt and laid it gently on the top of the refrigerator.

Willard’s feet began to rise from the ground. He tried to make a sound, but Dupree’s grip was too strong. He kicked out with his feet, hoping to hit the walls or the door and alert Moloch, but the giant held him in the very center of the large kitchen, away from anything that might allow Willard to give his presence away. Willard stretched for the giant’s face, but his arms were too short. Instead, he dug his nails into the Dupree’s hand, tearing and gouging, even as he felt his eyes bulging from his face, his lungs burning. Spittle shot from his mouth, and he began to shudder.

Then the giant’s grip tightened, and the small bones in Willard’s neck started to snap.

Outside, Moloch’s head turned sharply toward the kitchen.

“Willard?” he called. “You okay in there.”

He discarded his knife. Keeping a grip on Maria

The female cop was standing at the ruined window. Her gun was raised. She fired. The glass on the painting closest to Moloch’s head shattered.

At the same instant, Dupree emerged from the kitchen, his great bulk filling the doorway as he crouched slightly to enter the room. Moloch instantly drew Maria

“Peekaboo,” he said. “I see you. You stay right there, missy.”

Dupree remained still, the shotgun pointed at Moloch. The two men confronted each other for the first time, brought together by forces neither fully understood, and bound together by circumstances barely recognized: their shared knowledge of the woman who stood between them; their links to the island and its strange, bloody heritage; and finally, their own curiously similar situations, for they were both men out of place in the world and only Sanctuary could hold out to them a promise of belonging.

“Let her go,” said Dupree. “It’s over.”

“You think?” said Moloch. “I reckon it’s just begi

“Your people are all dead, and you’ll never be allowed to leave this place. Let her go.”

“Uh, no. I don’t think that’s going to happen. My wife and I have just been reunited after a long absence. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

Moloch jerked Maria

“I bet she didn’t tell you about me. I’m shocked. People got to be honest right from the start, otherwise what hope is there for two lovers in this world?”